Jerry Behr Number 2
Photosynthesis - Poem by Jerry Behr Number 2
For untold millions of years plants of the world have
been making oxygen so that all life can live on planet
Earth. Oxygen does not come from evaporation of
oceans nor from water vapour; oxygen only come
from plants. Plants breath in carbon dioxide and
use light energy and breath out oxygen.
Over hundreds of thousands of years the human has
developed and increased in population. A question is
being asked can plants keep up with the production of
oxygen to accommodate the human? Bearing in mind
it is not only the billions of humans but also their
billions of cars and trucks as well the wholesale burning
Of fossil fuels.
With the wholesale increase in human populations
on all continents humans require greater and greater
land use. Expressways are being built, roads in suburbia
and all major cities and when someone adds all this into
square area it adds up to hundred and thousands of
square kilometres of pure desert of concrete and bitumen.
Is there enough production of oxygen by plants in a
reduced area to work in as humans increase their
numbers in their billions? Looking at the sky the
human might think that there is heaps of sky but
do not stop to think that seventy percent of the sky
is nitrogen; something the human can not breath.
The sky is still blue and the clouds are still there
Whispering of the wind is still there rustling the
remaining plants and trees forlornly producing
oxygen for a relentless consumer who has no brains.
Obviously they forgot all about Easter Island with
its stone statues facing the Pacific Ocean and how the
islanders used up all their resources and squandered
There it is planet Earth with all its monuments,
skyscrapers, cities, expressways, thousands of
square kilometres of concrete and bitumen.
Pity about he suffocated to death. There was just
to many of them on the Island Earth.
By Jerry Behr
Comments about Photosynthesis by Jerry Behr Number 2
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe